


Lethe

by ApoplecticAtPeace



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Merlin Waiting for Arthur Pendragon's Return (Merlin), Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:55:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23428093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApoplecticAtPeace/pseuds/ApoplecticAtPeace
Summary: A thousand years and more have passed since the death of Arthur Pendragon, and with them a hundred and more reincarnations of the king. But not one of them remembers Merlin.Lost and filled with despair, unable to age or die, Merlin seeks the River Lethe in the Underworld, hoping to wipe all the pain away along with his memories.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 69





	Lethe

Merlin had lived for millennia. He had watched Arthur grow up and die a thousand times over and never once remember who he was, or who they were, and what they had been to each other.

A thousand nights and more had been spent alone, weeping.

Once, in the nineteenth century, he met Gwen, and she had remembered. They spent a whole night besides the Lake of Avalon, reminiscing and remembering. They had cried and laughed, hugged, comforted and been comforted by each other.

In the morning she was gone, and remembered nothing.

A thousand years of hope had morphed into a thousand years of desperation, and finally, a thousand years of despair.

In those years, he had heard of many things. Elixirs, dragons, faraway lands and magic beyond his wildest dreams. He had learned everything, and everything in-between. He had gathered knowledge and memories far beyond anything anyone could ever imagine.

But now, he wanted none of it.

He had heard of a river, one of the five rivers of the Underworld, and heard that it could erase memories.

A thousand lifetimes would grow weary on anyone, and now he just wanted to forget; forget his immortality, forget Arthur, forget himself. He wanted to forget everything.

Pallid and stooped, wearing the visage of an old man, Merlin travelled to the entrance. Well-meaning people stopped and offered him rides and help, and he took it silently.

He rode into the centre of a crowded city in a small, noisy taxi that belched out black fumes, and then out through the markets. The driver stopped and asked Merlin for money in a language that he could have understood if he felt like it.

He handed the man money, probably more than he had ever seen in his life, certainly enough to keep him comfortably for a few years, and the man thanked him and scuttled off in his vehicle, carefully driving around the cows that stood in the middle of the road.

Merlin walked along the well-worn road, and then turned down a less maintained track, and then down a pathway that was used only to pull carts of hay in from the fields.

He limped and dragged his feet until he collapsed from exhaustion in front of a collection of three large boulders.

Holding out his hands he spoke the words that made the rocks crack and white wisps escape into the air.

Then he dragged himself to his feet, crying and shaking, and passed through.

As he walked down the long void, fissures rumbling shut behind him, his old visage melted away. Ghosts brushed against his skin as he made his way steadily downwards, face melting into his true, young features.

In this place, you could not lie, especially not to yourself.

The ghosts howled and shrieked and moaned, and Merlin’s tears joined them, feeding them and giving them strength, whipping them up into a screaming storm around him.

As he descended the crowd grew thicker, and in his grief and anger he began tearing through them, ripping souls in half to get to his destination.

Finally, the crowd began to thin, and he could see the river twinkling in the dark. On the bank, a figure stood. The figure was Death, and they were holding a scythe.

Merlin approached them, fully prepared to rip them to shreds if they tried to stop him, but Death made no move. Merlin stepped forward, summoning his full power to rend Death to pieces or destroy himself trying. He stopped, power draining out of him as Death raised one shadowy hand, and nodded.

They faded, as if they had never been there, leaving Merlin alone in the noise and quiet.

Weeping heavier, Merlin fell to his knees on the jagged shore. The small waves that lapped against the sharp glass pebbles were beckoning.

His hands twisted in his trouser leg, steeling himself, and he leaned forward.

He touched the water with his fingertips, and the shrieking intensified, filling his head with despair. The cold froze his hands and lapped at the edges of his soul, creeping up his arms towards his chest.

He leaned forward, up to the elbow in the ice-cold waters of the Lethe, preparing to dunk his head under.

One little movement and he would forget everything. He would be a clean slate.

He just had to let go. Give in. Submit.

A hand touched him lightly on the back. A warm, living hand. It took him by the shoulder and pulled him firmly back from the shores. Merlin didn’t resist the movement.

“Took you long enough,” the person said, with a rich timbre in his voice.

Slowly, Merlin turned his head, shaggy locks falling away from his face.

“Arthur?” he whispered brokenly.

Arthur smiled the cocky but loving smile that Merlin had fallen in love with, but he had unshed tears in his eyes. “Finally decided to visit me, eh Merlin?”

Merlin stood, leaning forward towards Arthur. He reached out a hand.

“Are you-”

Arthur stepped forward and allowed Merlin’s hand to brush his face.

“I’m real.”

At this contact, Merlin surged forward and collapsed in Arthur’s arms, sobbing his eyes out.

“I- I thought I’d- I’d lost you,” Merlin choked, gripping the fabric of Arthur’s shirt. “You- you remember-”

“I remember everything,” Arthur said. “I’ll never forget again.”

Merlin smiled, the first genuine smile in over a decade, and pushed Arthur away from the water’s edge.

“I’ll never leave you, not so long as you remember me,” he said, gripping the back of Arthur’s head tightly as they embraced. “I love you.”

All around them the weeping and shrieking ghosts had fallen silent.

“Me too,” Arthur replied into Merlin’s shoulder, “I love you too. I always have.”

Merlin pulled away from Arthur, gazing into his eyes, eyes that shone with clarity, eyes that could see him and remember.

As if sensing the vows made to each other, the river hissed and spat, landing sparkling droplets on the pebble by their feet.

“I think that perhaps we should leave now,” Arthur suggested, eyeing the river suspiciously.

Merlin laughed wetly. “I agree.”

In the corner, as the two men walked out of the underworld, hand in hand, Death smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Criticism is welcome! Please tell me all your thoughts about this story, no matter how small! If you have suggestions about what I should write in future, tell me that too!
> 
> Stay safe out there everyone/
> 
> Bella


End file.
